Prom Night in Purgatory (Slow Dance in Purgatory)

by Harmon, Amy

  The chief screwed up his face in concentration, looking off for several moments, his hands still resting on his head.

  “Did she leave anything else behind?”

  “She had a little silver purse, and it was laying on the seat of my car where she’d left it. I looked inside thinking maybe she’d left some i.d.. It was empty, though. I found a gold cap on the floor that looked like it was from a lipstick,” Johnny added. His stomach tightened even further. Talking about it made it seem all the more bizarre. None of this made any sense. Why would a girl empty out her purse, leave it behind, and leave her shoes behind as well?

  “And you didn’t hear anything that woke you up, maybe alerted you that she was gone, huh?”

  “No. I woke up because the sun was beating down on me, and I was hot. I couldn’t believe how long and deeply I’d slept. I saw Maggie’s shoes and thought she’d probably taken a walk along the beach, waiting for me to wake up. I could see that she had been in the car because the driver’s side door was ajar.”

  “I’ll want to see the shoes and the purse, as well as the lipstick cap.”

  “Aw, shit,” Johnny thought to himself and ran aggravated hands through his hair. Why hadn’t he held onto the shoes? He hadn’t been thinking, that’s why. Now he was going to have to explain to Chief Bailey all about the connection to the Honeycutts. And how was he supposed to do that without getting Maggie in a whole heap of trouble?

  “Is there anything that happened at the dance or before you got to the reservoir that was out of the ordinary -- that makes you suspicious now?” Chief Bailey’s voice had become softer, and he was zeroed in on Johnny’s face, watching him, as if he knew Johnny was trying to determine what and what not to tell him.

  Hell, what hadn’t happened? Johnny thought. “The whole night was out of the ordinary.” Johnny leaned forward, his arms resting on the chief’s messy desk. “Here comes the part where you and I are just gonna talk,” Johnny suggested.

  Chief brought his hands down from his head and set his feet on the floor. Then he leaned forward too and leveled his eyes at Johnny.

  “She took that car last night, didn’t she?”

  Johnny sighed and dropped his head in defeat. Chief Bailey was no dummy. If Johnny was going to help Maggie, he couldn’t lie now.

  “She did. She and Lizzie Honeycutt seem to be friendly. Lizzie helped her devise a plan to borrow the housekeeper’s car. They didn’t think Mrs. Smith would even notice it was gone, and Maggie was just going to bring it back when the dance was over.”

  “Lizzie Honeycutt? Don’t you mean Irene?” The Chief of Police was a little perplexed.

  “No, I mean Lizzie. Lizzie and Maggie both say they are related, but neither of them would tell me more than that. Lizzie seems to think she went home...or, in her words, ‘back where she came from.’ But she doesn’t seem to know where that is.”

  “So you’ve talked to Lizzie since Maggie disappeared?”

  “I went there earlier today. She hadn’t seen Maggie either, and honestly, she didn’t tell me much. She asked for the shoes -- and Maggie’s dress for that matter. Apparently Lizzie helped Maggie ‘borrow’ a dress from Irene. I handed over the shoes. I didn’t think....I’m sorry.”

  Clark Bailey had resumed the position, hands on head, eyes trained on the ceiling, thinking.

  “You shouldn’t have helped her leave the dance, you know.” Chief Bailey dropped his eyes and pinned a look on Johnny. “Technically, I could charge you as an accessory to a crime.”

  Johnny sighed and folded his arms, a little of the hoodlum resurfacing to smirk at the chief’s bluff. “You’re not gonna do that, Chief. The car is back in the garage, no harm done, and I didn’t take it. Plus, if you’re ever gonna have a chance with my mother, you’d better not throw me in jail on a two-bit charge like that.”

  Chief Bailey actually blushed a little and started moving papers around on his desk. Johnny laughed out loud.

  “Chief, take it from me, it’s gonna take a catastrophic event to make my momma wake up and come to her senses. She’s a good lady, and Lord knows she’s a pretty one, but she is downright stupid when it comes to men, and you’re not her type. I actually wish you were ‘cause I think Maggie was right. I think you’re one of the good guys, and my momma could definitely use one of those.”

  Chief Bailey stared at the mouthy teen for a minute, wishing he didn’t like him so much, but recognizing a bit of the young Clark Bailey’s attitude and guts in Johnny Kinross. Damn if the kid wasn’t right. Clark Bailey knew he would never get Dolly Kinross to turn her head long enough to discover that he could take care of her if she would let him.

  “Well, it seems we’re both a little blind when it comes to certain women, now doesn’t it, son?” Chief Bailey had recovered from his discomfort and was back in the driver’s seat once more.

  Johnny grinned at that. “Yes, sir. I guess so. But in my defense, Maggie seemed pretty gone on me too.”

  “I’m sure she was, son. I’m sure she was.” Clark Bailey shook his head and laughed. He’d had to listen to his deputy, Brad Wilkey, complain for two weeks about Johnny Kinross. He had been sure his daughter was going to be ruined after attending the prom with someone like him. It seemed to Clark that Brad should spend a little more time worrying about the reputation his daughter had acquired before she’d been asked out by the young Kinross.

  “Tell you what, Johnny. I will make some calls and see if there are any missing persons reports for a girl matching Maggie’s description in the surrounding areas. I will also have my men be on the lookout around here. I will go see the Honeycutt’s housekeeper this evening, just as a courtesy call, and I will ask to speak to the little girl as well -- see if I can get some information about the girl she told Mrs. Smith was her cousin. Beyond that, I don’t know that I can do much more. But if I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

  Johnny stood and held out his hand. “Thank you, sir. I’d appreciate that.”

  He turned to go, and then stopped, looking back at Clark Bailey. “She said you were one of the good guys, Chief. How do you think she knew that? You didn’t recognize her did you?”

  “No, son. I didn’t. I don’t know why she’d say something like that, although I’m grateful she did.”

  Johnny nodded again. “Just ask my momma out, Chief. All she can say is no, right? You can’t be afraid of a little rejection, not a big, tough, Police Chief like yourself?”

  “Go on now, kid.” Clark Bailey shook his head and proceeded to fill out the form on his desk. Johnny laughed and left without another word, but thoughts of missing girls and missed opportunities nagged at Clark Bailey for the rest of the day.

  ~16~

  A Time to Gather Stones Together

  The end of the school year was three weeks away, and Johnny was failing English. He’d flirted with Miss Barker all year -- just enough so she cut him some slack here and there. But she had decided to get some backbone and was insisting he read some book and take a test on it in order to get a final grade. He had never read an entire book in his life, and he didn’t plan to now. He was smart enough that he usually managed to listen in class and get the gist of whatever they were reading and studying, and he had always squeaked by. But he had missed class a time too many, missed one too many assignments, and was now between a rock and a hard spot. He knew if Miss Barker gave him a test on A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, he would never pass. Cheating was beneath him. Sweet persuasion wasn’t, but looking on another kid’s paper or stealing the answers just wasn’t in him. It rankled when others did it, and he wouldn’t do it himself. Maybe because it was what people expected of Johnny Kinross, or maybe it was his own warped moral code, but he did have one, and he didn’t cheat.

  So here he was, sitting in Miss Barker’s class after school, watching the poor little brown bird, as he secretly called her, blush and flutter and hating school and himself with a passion. He felt a little sick as he smiled at her, giving her a full
taste of “the devil’s charm” as his momma liked to call his dimpled grin. She stuttered and seemed to forget what she was saying. Johnny stood and walked to where she was standing by her desk. She bowed her head a little, almost shyly, and he looked down at the surprisingly crooked part that divided the sides of her head into almost equal halves. She always parted her hair in the middle, pulled it back severely, and secured it at her nape. She wore it like this every day. Johnny always wondered why. It was as if she tried to be as unattractive as possible. If he could mix his momma with Miss Barker, he would probably get a good balance - as it was, each woman could probably benefit by spending some time with the other.

  He crowded her a little, knowing that he made her nervous in a very non-teacher/student way.

  “What if you just tell me about this book, and I’ll listen very attentively, take the test, and we’ll call it good,” Johnny suggested oh-so-helpfully.

  Miss Barker looked as if she might give in, and her eyes fell for a moment on his lips. Then her gaze shot up to his, and there was a look in her eyes that caused him to take a step back. There was hope in her eyes. The expression on her face reminded him of the way Maggie had looked at him when he’d kissed her on the beach -- the moment he’d felt the very thing she had been trying to explain to him. That kiss had rocked his world. Her sweet mouth, her arms locked around his neck, her slim form pushed up against his, the love that he had felt as soon as his lips touched hers.

  For a moment he forgot where he was, the memory hung around him like he was there all over again, and Maggie was looking at him like maybe they had a chance. Then Miss Barker spoke, her voice an unwelcome reminder that he hadn’t seen Maggie in two weeks, and would likely never see her again. He steeled himself against the memory. He’d had fun before her, he’d have fun after. He looked down into Miss Barker’s expectant face, and his heart tripped up again. Damn.

  He could do it! It would take one little kiss on that sad little mouth, and she’d talk him right through the book, and he’d be home free. He could do it. Just don’t think about it, Johnny, he told himself. Miss Barker was a very nice lady-- maybe only four years older than he was himself. And she wanted him to! He could see it written all over her homely face. Damn! He could do this!

  He couldn’t do it. The thought of Maggie, her face shining with hope, filled him with a self-disgust that he couldn’t swallow and he didn’t want to live with. Maggie wouldn’t like him kissing other girls, as if her kisses had meant nothing to him. She wouldn’t want him to treat Miss Barker that way, either. Hell, he didn’t want to treat Miss Barker that way. Damn it! He pushed away from the teacher’s desk and walked several steps away.

  “Give me the book,” he said curtly, holding out his hand before he changed his mind. “I’ll do the best I can. Will you give me a week?”

  Miss Barker’s mouth had dropped open, and she seemed at a loss for a minute. Then she closed her mouth, squared her shoulders, and nodded primly. She walked to where he stood, hand outstretched, and placed the book in his open palm.

  “Absolutely. You’ll do fine. It really is a wonderful book.” She didn’t even stutter or blush when she spoke, and Johnny wondered for the first time if she had really wanted him to kiss her after all. Maybe she was afraid of him. Maybe that had been it all along -- not attraction, but intimidation. The thought made him uncomfortable, and he resolved to read the book and do well on the test as a sort of penance. His own words to Maggie rang in his head. “Behind every bad man is a woman who can’t resist him.” He didn’t want to be a bad man. He would read the book. The thought that Maggie would be proud lingered somewhere in the back of his mind. He shoved it away and walked out of the room, letting poor Miss Barker be.

  ***

  The book wasn’t half bad. In fact, he actually even liked it. By the end he was riveted on the tale of the underdog who became the hero. He even imagined himself in the shoes of Sydney Carton, the character who gave his life to save another man, a man he knew was a better man that he. He had willingly gone to the guillotine. Man, that would be a scary way to go, Johnny shuddered, contemplating it. But it would be quick -- and probably painless. Could he do it? Could he give up his life for someone else?

  Johnny thought about it long and hard when he finished the book, gripping the novel between his hands, the final pages long since read. He had always been the man of the house, and men protected their families. The original John Kinross -- his father -- had long since gone. No one knew where, and Johnny could barely remember him, so he didn’t ever miss him. In fact, he’d wondered before if Billy was John Kinross’s son at all. Dolly called both her sons by the Kinross name, the name she kept herself, and it was good enough for Johnny. Billy was his, whether or not their fathers were the same. Yeah, he’d die for Billy if he had to.

  And for Maggie? A little voice inside of him questioned, much to his disgust. He growled in frustration, making Billy stir in his sleep, lying in the narrow bed alongside his. He threw the book across the room and watched as it collided with the wall hard enough to break the binding of the book. Billy sat up like he’d been slapped and then lay back down as if nothing had happened, falling carelessly back into sleep. Johnny had to smile at the rumpled hair and sleepy face of his younger brother. When Billy had his glasses off he reminded Johnny of the way he had looked when he was really little. It made Johnny hurt a little inside, the way a parent does when they realize the child they loved has morphed into a whole new creature.

  Johnny felt a helplessness descend on him, and it wasn’t just the melancholy of time passing. It was Maggie. Maggie who had disappeared without a trace. Maggie with no phone number and no address. Maggie, who he had been unable to get out of his head. He dreamed about her, laughing up at him, her long dark hair swinging around her, her movements confident and smooth, matching his as they danced around the gymnasium, into the starlit night, and out onto the beach, where his dream always ended short of kissing her again.

  Chief Bailey had talked to Lizzie Honeycutt. She had been vague in the way that kids are vague -- telling him something seemingly helpful, only to contradict it in the next sentence. The only thing that was clear was that she did know Maggie, she had helped her take the car, and she didn’t know where she was now.

  Chief Bailey had also talked to Mr. Andrew Russell and his wife, as well as their daughters Cathy and Shirley. They had not had any family visiting recently, nor were they related to anyone by the name of Maggie. It appeared that Maggie had concocted the story on the spot. The discovery almost made Johnny feel better. The mystery of her disappearance was equalled by the mystery of her identity, making him believe she had vanished deliberately and was not the victim of something nefarious.

  There were no missing person alerts for young girls in the whole state of Texas, not to mention girls matching her description. Texas was apparently a great place for young ladies ages 15-20, because every one of them had stayed put in the time frame Maggie went missing. Chief Bailey said he had filed a report and tucked it away, but there wasn’t anything else he could do. He had said it was like looking for a ghost.

  ***

  Graduation came and went. He made it. Johnny got his diploma, and he had actually earned it...well, mostly. He had flirted his way through some of it, but he scored an A on the final test for A Tale of Two Cities, which should count for something. And in so many ways it was “the best of times and the worst of times.” He was free. No more school, no more teachers, no more Principal Marshall breathing down his neck. He could work full time at Gene’s shop, spending time doing what he loved most. “Fixing cars and hitting bars,” Carter had said when they’d done the man-hug thing after graduation. Carter was whoopin’ and hollerin’-- and for a minute, Johnny saw himself doing just that, fixing cars and going to bars and getting old. And he panicked.

  Johnny wasn’t sure that was all he wanted anymore. He definitely had to hang around until Billy was out of school. He needed to make sure Momma didn’t fall in l
ove with the wrong guy and get herself in trouble, too. But then what? Maybe there was a much bigger world out there. A world where Maggie existed somewhere beyond the confines of his own little life. He had felt desolate all of a sudden and ended up leaving the after-graduation party early, heading out to the reservoir to skip rocks and sleep on the sand. He’d spent many a summer night out at the rez. Now here it was, halfway through the summer, with August breathing down on him with her hot breath and her short temper, and he found himself there again. He had driven out after he got off work, threw off his shoes and jumped fully clothed into the drink just to escape her. Then he had laid out on the beach and wished like hell he was dancing with Maggie.

  He had his car radio cranked up just like he’d done the night of the prom. He listened as the same old announcer spun out some of the very same songs, and he laughed at himself for being such an old woman. Here he was, Johnny Kinross, who could have any girl he wanted, sitting by himself, mooning over a girl he had met only once.

  “And here’s a brand new one coming out to you across the airwaves, folks. It’s a beauty...tell your friends you heard it here first. The Platters singing ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.’” The announcer’s practiced voice introduced the next song with all the enthusiasm and vigor of a true music lover, and Johnny sat up abruptly as the opening bars bled out across the sand. He listened, growing more and more baffled. He had never heard this song before, he would have remembered it for the title alone.

  It was her song. The song Maggie told him was her favorite. How could it be her favorite song when it hadn’t even been released yet? She’d said it was an oldie but still the best love song she’d ever heard. An oldie? The announcer said it was brand new....